


Suburbia

by chelouple28



Category: SKAM (France)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angst with a Happy Ending, Childhood friends to strangers to lovers, Fluff, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Recreational Drug Use, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2020-02-03
Packaged: 2020-11-24 20:31:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20913671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chelouple28/pseuds/chelouple28
Summary: It's the summer before Lucas' last year, and everything in his life seems one step closer to shattering with every summer storm that passes by. His dad's business trips. His mama's consuming thoughts. His friends' expectations. Chloe. And it doesn't help when Eliott Demaury shows up out of nowhere after a 6 year long radio silence, promising to give him the summer of his life if he just gives him a chance.It's the summer before Lucas' last year, and he feels like everything is changing too fast, and Eliott's smile is the only thing that makes it slow down. What does he have to lose?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i've heard you guys like angst right?

It’s all sunshine and peals of laughter down by the beach on the outskirts of Lucas’ neighborhood. 

Gentle rays of sun feel like a blanket draped over his shoulders after a particular cold morning, warming up his skin, comfortably, toasting it until his body glows with warmth. The air tastes like salt every time he licks his lips, and the light sea breeze ruffles his hair until it’s a tangled mess of sea water, sand and sweat.

Lucas sits by the shore, legs spread wide in front of him, wiggling his tiny toes every time a particularly playful wave makes contact with his feet. He giggles at the tickling sensation, and he looks at his mama over his shoulder, giving her a big, beaming smile.

His mama waves at him from the towel, chuckling to herself.

“Baby Lucas! Look what I found!”

The sound of his best friend’s voice makes Lucas’ head turn.

Eliott runs to him in all his 4’9 glory, his bare feet leaving loud footprints on the damp sand. His wet, floppy hair glows under the hot sun of July, scrawny, sun-kissed chest shining with water droplets, and he’s holding something between his small hands. 

Lucas’ face lights up when he spots him, wasting no time in jumping to his feet, the sound of his feet splattering against the thin water filling his ears. He stops in front of Eliott, big blue eyes staring at his best friend’s hands.

“What is that?”

Eliott looks at him for a second before his gaze returns to his own hands, cradled carefully over his chest. Lucas looks at them with wonder, expectantly, excitedly, bouncing on the balls of his feet when Eliott retracts one of the hands slowly. Lucas watches as Eliott uncovers a pointy, pink thing resting on top of his open palm, and his hands fly to cup Eliott’s discovery when he realizes what it is.

“Is that…?” Lucas whispers between them, in awe, as he runs the pad of his finger over the rough surface.

“A starfish.” Eliott finishes, puffing out his chest. “It’s so small. Like you.”

Lucas huffs, biting his cheek to keep from smiling, his eyes never leaving the tiny thing sitting on Eliott’s hands.

“We have to put it back into the water.” He whispers, stroking one of the starfish’s legs mindlessly. Eliott looks at him, frowning, and Lucas can see a big smudge of sand staining his left cheek from up close. “Starfishes can only last from one to five minutes without water, otherwise they suffocate. We have to take it back.”

Surprise flashes across Eliott’s eyes before his expression settles into something fond, and he shakes his head, smiling at Lucas.

“Of course you would know that.” Eliott laughs softly. “You nerd. Too smart for us all.”

Lucas chews on his bottom lip, ignoring the rising color on his cheeks as he guides Eliott towards the shoreline with his hands, lowering their bodies until their elbows brush the water. 

“Shut up.” He murmurs quietly as he carefully picks the starfish from between Eliott’s hands, placing it on the sand. And then, for good measure. “Idiot.”

Eliott laughs loudly, and his whole body shakes with it. Lucas smiles to himself at the sound as he watches the crystal waves lapping at their feet, engulfing the pink starfish and dragging it away. He shrugs to himself when he loses sight of the pink lump under the water, standing up after a moment.

This part of the beach is always almost desert. Lucas doesn’t understand why, because the water is always very clean and the sand is warm enough that it feels nice beneath his feet, unlike in the beach on the other side of the city, where the sun warms the sand to the point where it feels like walking on fire.

He isn’t complaining though, it just means there’s more than enough space for him and Eliott to run around, and splash each other between cold waves, and play Pirate without his mama yelling at them to be careful not to dirty strangers’ towels with their incessant paddling. 

“Hey, baby Lucas,” Eliott calls behind him. Lucas turns to look at him, rolling his eyes at the stupid nickname. It used to be cute when he was a four year old pudgy baby, but Lucas is _ seven _ now. “Bet you can’t run faster than me.”

“Sure I can!” 

“Yeah?” Eliott challenges him. Lucas nods with confidence, crossing his arms over his chest. “Okay, then. Race you!”

With that he sets off running towards the sea, leaving Lucas no other option than to follow him, not without screaming at the top of his lungs that _ that’s cheating, Eli! You didn’t give me a heads up! _

Eliott’s laugh is so loud Lucas thinks it can be heard all over the city. 

They run into the sea, waves crashing against their bellies, and the cold sensation makes Lucas gasp. Every time he’s close enough to jump on Eliott’s back, the tide pulls him backwards, and by the time they pass the waves his legs are burning. Eliott smiles mockingly at him, splashing Lucas’ face when they’re close enough. 

That makes Lucas frown, who splashes back, and it soon turns into a competition of who can make a bigger splash with their arms. Lucas wins, of course, which makes Eliott pick him up and throw him over his shoulder. Lucas squeals when he feels Eliott’s hands gripping his waist, kicking his legs into the air and smacking Eliott’s wet back with his palms. Eliott pays him no mind, dropping him into the water without a second thought.

He emerges back with his hair sticking to his forehead and his mouth full of water, narrowing his stinging eyes at a laughing Eliott.

“You suck.”

Eliott shrugs, smiling smugly at him, swimming lazy circles around Lucas’ body. Lucas only follows him with his eyes, making soft waves with his hands.

“Where did you find the starfish, anyway?” Lucas asks after a while, threading water with his fingers.

Eliott pauses. 

“By the rocks.”

The confession makes Lucas’ heart pound in his throat, and he pushes at Eliott’s shoulder when he swims close enough to reach him. Eliott’s head submerges underwater for a second before his body regains the balance, and he sinks his feet on the sand, steadying himself, looking at Lucas with a sour expression.

“Hey!”

“Serves you right, you… you dummy!” 

Eliott shakes his hair like a wet puppy, sending water droplets into every direction, Lucas’ included. Lucas turns his back on him, hugging himself a little tighter, and he pretends the tears gathering in his waterline are there because his eyes sting.

That idiot.

“Are you mad at me?” 

Eliott glides over to Lucas, plastering himself to Lucas’ back. He pokes Lucas’ arms, searching to raise a reaction out of his best friend, holding the small boy into place when he tries to squirm out of his hands.

“Seriously?” When Lucas only tries to shrug Eliott’s hands off him, Eliott tightens his hold on Lucas’ shoulders, clutching him closer to his chest. “I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t know it was such a big deal.”

Lucas turns in Eliott’s hold, fuming, and tilts his head up to look at Eliott in the eye. 

“The rocks? _ Really _? You know how dangerous that is.” He says, his finger pushing at Eliott’s chest with every word until he’s out of Eliott’s arms.

Eliott huffs amusedly, rolling his eyes. 

“I’m serious, Eli. Don’t go there again, okay?” Lucas insists, sniffing a little. “Promise me.”

“Promise.”

Lucas nods once at that, knowing his best friend would never break any of his promises. Eliott nods back, ruffling his hair, apologetic eyes searching Lucas’ gaze. Lucas huffs out a laugh, nodding again, before he finds himself enveloped by Eliott’s arms. He lets out a startled laugh, circling Eliott’s waist with his own arms. 

And that’s that.

Then, much later, when they are leaving, and there’s sand sticking to his legs and itching under his swim trunks, he feels Eliott’s arm resting on his shoulders.

“You know I hate it when I scare you.”

“Never again.” 

Eliott shakes his head before hooking his chin over Lucas’ head, squeezing his shoulders once before untangling himself from Lucas. 

“Never again.” Eliott repeats. 

* * *

Lucas’ fingers are freezing when he presses them into the holes of his jeans.

He exhales, head thudding against the concrete wall behind his back. Music blasts from his headphones in the dead of the night, and Lucas finds comfort in it, hugging his legs to his chest.

He used to love it out here.

It’s always quiet, this part of the city. Especially at night. There’s not one soul walking down the street, no lights in the tall buildings, and even the wind hitting the trees sounds strangely empty. The silence used to ease the tension out of his bones, but as he sits at the bottom of the stairs of an abandoned ice-cream parlor, with the moon lighting up his face, he feels the quietness crawling up his throat and choking him.

Lately he can’t stand the silence without feeling like it’s trying to swallow him whole.

He fiddles with the cable of his headphones, tapping his feet to the beat of the music, and tilts his head up, keeping his eyes open. The pitch black sky stares back at him, almost glaringly, and the stars are so bright, and the darkness is so deep, and Lucas feels so cold that he has to look away.

He scrunches his eyes closed, swallowing hard, and the tapping of his feet becomes louder, more frantic, out of beat, as he mouths the words of the song playing from his phone like a prayer.

Flashes of him sitting in this exact place over the years cross his mind. Ten years ago, when he was too short to reach the door handle, heart pumping with anticipation, and grey eyes smiling down at him and a small hand pulling the door open. Seven years ago, with a big pink stain on his t-shirt and his mama’s laugh echoing in his ears. Six years ago, with rain in his hair and tears in his eyes, as he pounded on the door but no one answered. One year ago, nothing but a heavy heart and bruised knuckles, the shell of a ghost kicking the door as a punishment for ruining every single one of his good memories.

He chases the thoughts away, digging his fingers on the insides of his thighs.

_ He hates it out here. _

The sudden revelation heats his skin up until it feels like he’s suffocating, his stomach cramping up, and he rips the earbuds out of his ears as he stands up hastily, eyes burning. 

_ He hates it so much. He hates everything about this stupid ice-cream shop, and this stupid city, and the stupid sky and the stupid ocean, and his fucking brain that won’t fucking leave him alone no matter how much he begs- _

“You three! Stay where you are!”

The sudden noise startles Lucas, who stumbles backwards and falls flat on his ass. The phone flies out of his hands, crashing to ground, and Lucas silently curses at whoever is screaming bloody murder in the middle of the night, frowning to himself when he hears frantic footsteps running down the street followed by loud laugher and yelling.

So much for a quiet neighborhood.

“Those fucking children!” The voice sounds close, and it makes Lucas curl up in himself, his back hitting the shop’s door with a silent thud. “You should be ashamed of yourselves, didn’t your mother raise you better?! I swear if I get my hands on any of you-”

“Well, hello there.” 

That voice.

Lucas snaps his head up at the greeting, his mouth turning dry.

“Wh-”

Eliott Demaury jumps up the stairs that separate Lucas from the sidewalk three steps at a time, a taunting smile on his face and dark, twinkling eyes never leaving Lucas’ face. Lucas stays frozen in his seat, mouth going slack when Eliott presses a finger to his lips.

“Shh,” Lucas looks down at Eliott’s finger, then back at Eliott’s lopsided smirk.

He stays still, eyes dancing from Eliott to the deserted street behind Eliott’s figure, and although he isn’t the one who was on the run from a very angry man, he finds himself panting a little too. The silence is only broken by Eliott’s rapid breathing and the loud thumping of his own heart in his ears.

When Eliott deems himself free, or at least Lucas thinks that’s what makes Eliott spur into action, he takes a place next to Lucas on the ground.

“What the fuck?” 

Eliott gives him a funny look, but pays him no mind otherwise, stretching out his legs and letting his head fall against the wooden door, letting out a sigh.

“No seriously, what the fuck?” Lucas says again, a little louder this time. Eliott shushes him. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

Eliott’s shoulders raise and fall in a halfhearted shrug. There’s an easy smile on his lips, it fits his boyish face perfectly, and although he’s two years older than Lucas, he looks characteristically young in the dark. This is the most relaxed Lucas has seen him in years.

“Remember when we were kids, and we used to spend every afternoon inside this place?” Eliott ignores Lucas’ question, eyes closed. His soft voice makes Lucas’ hands shake. “That caramel ice-cream, man. Some good shit.”

Lucas’ nose flares at the comment, his hands balling up in fists between his legs. 

“Okay.”

He stands up, dusting the inexistent dirt off his jeans, before picking up the discarded phone and headphones and pocketing them in the inside of his hoodie.

“Leaving so soon?” Eliott asks without moving a muscle, looking at him through hooded eyes. He takes a bag out of his jacket, shaking the contents inside. “It’s been so long, baby Lucas.”

Lucas clenches his jaw, turning his head.

“If you call me that ever again,” He murmurs. The venom in his voice leaves a sour aftertaste in his mouth. “I will break your jaw.”

Eliott lets out an uncharacteristically loud laugh. Years ago it would have made Lucas preen with pride; now though, it only fills him with dread. 

“You’ve always been so feisty.” He laughs again, rolling a blunt between his fingers. “C’mon, I’ll share. Stay for a little while.”

And it’s not fair, is it? That Eliott sounds so unaffected by everything, while Lucas feels like every step he takes forward is leading him to the bottom of the sea. That Lucas’ hands used to shake whenever he saw a mop of brown hair at school, but it has only taken Eliott one night being high off his ass to break the silence after all these years.

It’s not fair that Lucas is filled with all these memories, while Eliott’s posture shows that he couldn’t care less about the ghosts of two little kids running around this place and smearing ice-cream all over themselves. 

It’s not fair at all.

Still, he sits back down, far away from Eliott, but close enough to steal the cigarette from Eliott’s fingers and take a long drag out of it. He sits down, because he’s pathetic, and his mama is breaking vases and throwing forks at the TV; because the night always leaves him restless, and the silence makes him crazy, but Eliott’s breathing is enough to break the quietness – mostly though, he stays because he really needs a hit of whatever Eliott is offering him tonight.

The silence is uncomfortable until the effect of the weed hits Lucas’ body, and he doesn’t know how it happens, but there’s a moment between then and now when he feels his brain turn to jelly. This he can deal with, he thinks; looking at Eliott feels a lot more bearable when he’s like this. 

“So.” Lucas breathes under a cloud of smoke, ignoring Eliott’s whistle when he takes another drag. “That man. He sounded pretty angry.”

Eliott shrugs again, taking the cigarette back.

“Guess he can’t appreciate art when he sees it.” He leans forward when he says it, blowing the smoke right into Lucas’ face.

When Lucas shoots him a confused glance Eliott moves his hand to his jacket, smirk widening, before unzipping it. Lucas sees a can of paint sticking out of the hoodie’s pocket, and he rolls his eyes. 

Ah. Should have guessed.

“You know, you’re gonna get your ass handled one of these days and you’ll only have yourself to blame.”

“I’ve got my back covered.”

“You still hang out with those guys, then?” Lucas raises an eyebrow, unimpressed. “I’ve heard you’re staying here another year. Doesn’t it get tiring? The teachers must be sick of your face by now.”

If the comment offends him, Eliott doesn’t show it. Instead he rolls his head to the side, bringing his legs to his chest.

“They say third time’s a charm, right?”

Eliott opens his eyes to look at Lucas, the silver in them matching the color of the sky, before he wiggles his eyebrows, startling a laugh out of the younger boy.

“I guess so, yeah.”

“What about you? Excited to start your last year? Finally leave this shithole?”

Something churns inside of Lucas at the thought. He fiddles with the strings of his hoodie, pulling at them, picking at the threads, going over the words in his head. He’s not about to overshare in front of a stranger – because that’s what they are, aren’t they? 

Long lost acquaintances, fresh strangers, two people who used to know each other from the inside out. 

“Not really.” He settles after a moment.

“No?” Eliott inquires, looking at Lucas with careful eyes. It feels so much like he’s being studied, and it makes his skin crawl. “Damn. Guess we’ll have to make this summer count for something, then.”

Lucas snorts.

“School starts in less than a month, I think that train passed a while ago.” He says, sniffing from the cold. He rubs his nose with the paw of his hoodie. “It’s what it is, I think. Growing up.”

“But what if it doesn’t have to be?”

If the way out to growing up is getting high every night and vandalizing people’s cars with a group of jackasses, he can’t wait to grow the fuck up and leave this city, Lucas thinks to himself. He doesn’t say anything like that, shrugging at Eliott as a response before shoving his hands in his pockets. 

“I don’t even want to know what you’re suggesting here.”

Eliott gives him a look.

“Don’t you trust me?”

And because he doesn’t want to think about the implications in that question, he fills his mouth with white smoke instead, letting it out through his nose before blowing it away from his face.

He falls silent after that, alternating between looking at Eliott’s profile and the moon looming over their heads. He hasn’t had this in a very long time, he realizes; he can’t remember how long it has been since they’ve held a conversation for longer than a polite ‘hello’ and ‘excuse me’, actually, and it’s nice. This, right now, feels nice. 

But he knows it’s just a one night kind of thing, almost feels like closure for a badly healed fallout before going off into the grown up world, like this is the last conversation they’ll ever have, and the universe, looking out for Lucas for once, has decided to gift him with one last good memory before he inevitably moves on.

The thought makes him sad. 

“Thanks for the weed,” He starts, pulling the sleeves of his hoodie over his hands.

Eliott waves him off with a lazy flick of his wrist.

“No problem.”

“-but I think I’m gonna go now. See you around.” Lucas says as a farewell. The words feel heavy in his tongue, but he stands up either way without giving Eliott any sort of explanation. And then, with a little smirk, because he’s still loosened up, he adds “Or not. Only the cops will tell.”

Eliott laughs loudly, unbothered by the empty space Lucas’ body was filling a minute ago, raising the cigarette like he’s doing a toast. 

“See you around, Lucas.” Eliott smiles. 

Lucas returns the smile from the bottom of the stairs, hesitantly, and it’s been so long since he last saw Eliott in front of this exact place, looking at him with crinkled eyes and messy hair, that his heart cracks a little further after the exchange. The smile in his face dims out, but he turns around before he gives Eliott the chance to see him like that.

“Think about my proposition! I could give you the summer of your life, Lucas!” Eliott screams at the top of his lungs when Lucas crosses the street. “Just think about it!”

Lucas can’t do anything but turn around, laughing a little when he sees Eliott holding himself up in the stair railing.

“You’re not anywhere near worth the trouble, Demaury.” Lucas answers, walking backwards.

Eliott only laughs harder, and Lucas finally turns around, shaking his head with a small smile on his face, the sound of Eliott’s bright laugher lasting him until he gets home. He doesn’t realize he hasn’t put his headphones on until the plug digs into his hip when the throws himself on top of the bed.

Thoughts of Eliott spill out of his head, filling his room when his head hits the pillow, and Lucas stares helplessly at his hands, watching one memory of Eliott after the other slipping out of his fingertips as he quietly falls asleep.

Growing up and moving on. It has never sounded like a bigger nightmare than it does in that moment.


	2. Chapter 2

Up.

_Don’t you see? They’re coming for us. They’re bringing death, and the world is burning, and no one will stand but the pure. Forgive your father, for I can’t. Cleanse his soul, scrub his skin raw, and get rid of his sins, for I couldn’t fix him in time._

Down.

_Can’t you see? The ceiling is on fire. Only our faith will save us now. God will hear our prayers, and he will listen, for I haven’t seen a purer soul than yours. I hear the dark whispering my name, and it sounds so sweet. The pull is too intense. Don’t let the devil sink his claws in my body. _

Up.

_It’s been so long, baby Lucas._

Down.

_See you around, Lucas. _

_I could give you the summer of your life, Lucas. _

_Lucas._

Up-

“Are you okay, man?”

Lucas startles, the small ball hitting his nose with full force before bouncing off his face and falling into the water with a loud plop.

He blinks up at Yann.

“What?”

“Are you okay?” Yann repeats, shooting him a concerned look. “You’ve been lying like that for the past fifteen minutes.”

Lucas blinks again, slowly, looking at his surroundings. He looks down at himself: his chest, bare and rising with every breath, shining under the morning sun. The red mark across his stomach, courtesy of his swimming trucks. His legs, bent over the edge of the huge pool at the back of Yann’s house, swaying back and forth to the beat of the birds chirping on top of a near tree.

“Yeah,” He nods, giving himself once last appreciative once-over. “I’m good. Just thinking.”

Yann lowers himself to the ground, hissing when his feet make contact with the freezing water. It makes Lucas snicker.

“Shut up, fucker.” Yann mumbles, slapping Lucas on the stomach before cracking his coke open and tossing the other one to Lucas. “It’s cold.”

“I would hope so,” Lucas gestures to the sweat on his forehead. “We would melt off otherwise. Thanks for the drink, by the way.”

Yann nods at Lucas’ closed-mouth smile. He turns his body after that, looking ahead, and Lucas does the same, squinting at the blinding sun that washes over the backyard.

This is one of his sacred places – which is saying a lot, these days. Out here, in Yann’s backyard, bathing in the gentle sun, dipping his feet in the freezing water and getting beer drunk with his best friend, Lucas feels like he can be whoever he wants to be.

It’s a beautiful sight, too; with each passing hour the sun flies over their heads, leaving a golden trace behind before shyly hiding behind the city. There’s trees surrounding the property, and he smiles at the memory of a 14 year old boy jumping the back fence, climbing up that exact same tree he’s looking at right now, the branches crunching beneath his feet, his heart racing at the thought that they could break at any minute.

He had sneaked into Yann’s house that night, because Yann had sounded so down over the phone, after getting dumped by his girlfriend at the time, that Lucas couldn’t find a better solution than breaking inside his best friend’s house. And it sounds so _dumb_ now, they were _fourteen_, but Yann’s face, full of joy, had made his near-death experience worth it, he’d thought when Yann had thrown his arms around his body, crushing him in a hug.

Yann is, and will always be, a constant part of his life. So is his house.

Lucas doesn’t want to think about how he’s going to cope with Yann being out of town for the next two weeks. Probably smoke a whole lot of weed. Cry a little. Eat his weight in pizza.

“Seriously, Lucas.” Yann says again. “You’re worrying me. What’s going on inside your head?”

“I - nothing, really,” Lucas stammers, mind suddenly blank – and isn’t that fucking convenient? “Or, everything? I don’t fucking know man, I think it’s just the summer, messing with my head. I’m starting to get restless.” He sighs. “It seems to be dragging on forever.”

He groans, letting his body fall backwards, his back hitting the warm concrete, and he shields his face with his arm. Yann clicks his tongue, eyes filled with sympathy.

“Yeah, same.” Yann agrees. “There’s just so many things we can do around here without going mad.”

Lucas hums, skin vibrating where his lips press into his arm. He swings his legs inside the swimming pool once.

“So that’s all?”

He swings his legs higher.

“And-”

The force of the wave splashes his stomach. It shocks his burning skin.

“I saw Demaury.”

Yann doesn’t even bitch when some of the water hits his face, too stunned by Lucas’ bomb-drop to do anything except look at Lucas. The noises around them fade away – the birds chirping, the soothing swaying of the water moving with the wind, Yann’s dad cooking lunch with the radio playing on full blast. They’re enveloped by a sudden quietness, Yann’s eyes boring into Lucas.

“You… when?”

Lucas shrugs. He nestles his arms behind his head, stretching his body, legs slipping deeper into the water. His back arches with a satisfying pop, water reaching his mid thighs now, ass resting on the edge of the pool, and he sighs.

“Last night. After leaving yours I went home, but I couldn’t sleep, so I went for a walk by the dock.” He leaves out the part where he couldn’t sleep because his mother had been screaming bloody murder in her sleep again. “And there he was. Standing in front of me, trying to start up a conversation.”

“And…” Yann says carefully, wary of Lucas’ reaction. “How do you feel about that?”

And Lucas totally gets where Yann’s concern comes from. After all, he had been the one who had taken Lucas in his arms at 13, skinny sobbing mess as he had been, and dragged him home after Lucas had bumped into Eliott on their first day of high school.

It had been two years since Lucas had seen him last, when Eliott had stopped showing up for their plans, and Lucas doesn’t understand now why he had been so shocked to see Eliott there – he _knew_ Eliott went to that school – but that piece of information hadn’t been enough to prevent Lucas from pressing himself into the nearest wall, sliding off it with tears in his eyes when he’d seen Eliott, his head thrown back in laughter, surrounded by a crowd of people, not one trace of Lucas in his mind. Yann had to deal with his best friend’s breakdowns for the following three months whenever Lucas would catch a flash of honey brown hair in the courtyard.

It’s been a good four years since that, though, and Lucas’ heart has learnt to build walls around himself to protect it from certain people – or memories.

“Well, I think? It was weird.” Lucas says sincerely. “We haven’t spoken, like, properly, in years. But it was good. We were high off our asses though,”

Yann laughs at that.

“But yeah, it was nice. It almost felt like we had never drifted apart, just for one night.” Lucas nods to himself, eyes still closed, enjoying the yellow shapes dancing behind his eyelids. “So maybe a little bittersweet, too.”

“Maybe he wants to make things right?”

Lucas cracks one eye open, tilting his head to one side as if to say _‘Are you serious right now?’_

“Hell no. That’s not how his mind works.” He doesn’t admit the way his heart perks up at the thought, a weak trickle of hope leaking out from one of the cracks in the wall around his feelings. “You’ve seen him, he doesn’t give a fuck about anything.”

_He doesn’t give a fuck about me, _he doesn’t say.

“He’s such an asshole.”

Lucas barks out a laugh at Yann’s grumbly expression. His heart soars when he realizes the indignation in his best friend’s face is on his behalf.

“He’s really not,” Lucas shakes his head, still laughing a little. “He’s a nice person. He’s just,”

Lucas struggles with the next words. How would you describe someone who smiles at strangers in the streets but breaks into abandoned houses? Someone who never shows up to class but helps old ladies cross the streets? Someone who breaks your heart so unapologetically but still looks disappointed when you refuse to share a blunt with them?

“A free soul.” And then, when he realizes how cheesy it sounds, his face heats up. He adds “Or something.”

Yann snorts.

“Is that what we’re calling it, then?” He huffs with a sardonic roll of his eyes. “He might be nice, but that doesn’t erase the way he fucked you over.”

“That was years ago, Yann.” He explains, exasperatedly. “He’s allowed to not want to be my friend. I should have seen it coming, too – he was starting high school. What thirteen year old wants to hang out with their awkward, immature eleven year old friend? He could’ve gone about it in a much nicer way, I’ll give that to you, but still. People drift apart. Shit happens.”

And he means it, too. He’s had enough time to go over everything that happened all those years ago – six, to be exact. He’s made his peace with it long ago.

“Okay, but-” Yann starts.

He sounds like he wants to say something, but doesn’t have the words for it, so he’s stuck in a weird place where he opens and closes his mouth far too many times. In the end he admits defeat, mouth set in a frown, and he looks at Lucas with sad eyes.

“Well, that sucks.”

Lucas laughs loudly again, nodding.

“That it does, my dear friend.” He agrees. And then, softly, he repeats “That it does.”

Silence falls over them once again, but this time instead of dreading it, Lucas finds comfort in it: in the sipping sound of Yann finishing his drink, the loud clattering coming from the open window, Yann’s dad yelling at the coffee machine for being in the way. It’s peaceful.

The silence is short-lived, though.

“On another note,” Yann says, because he can’t help himself, too energetic to stay quiet for more than five minutes. Lucas smiles into his arm. “I bumped into Chloe the other day. She’s still waiting for you to call her back.”

Fuck.

“Fuck.” Lucas voices his thoughts. “_Fuck_, Chloe.”

“Yeah, fuck, Chloe.”

Lucas hoists himself up on his elbows. His hair is almost dry from their swim almost an hour ago, but still, some strands of hair fall over his eyes.

Three different kinds of alarm go off inside his head, all in different shapes and pitches. Chloe’s name sounds foreign in Lucas’ tongue, like it shouldn’t be there in the first place, guilt crashing into his head when he remembers he hasn’t spoken to her in a month, at least.

Since the last school party, actually, when he’d grown the balls to finally kiss her after awkward, long months of back and forth flirting with no actual action going on. They had ditched the party together shortly after, and although Lucas had been all kinds of drunk by that time, just like Chloe, he remembers the night with a special kind of warmth in his heart.

He hasn’t seen her since then. Hasn’t really missed her, either.

“I’ll call her tonight.” Lucas decides – because it’s what he’s supposed to do, right? “It’s been a long time since we last hung out.”

“Yeah, no shit. I think I got that from her murderous face when I mentioned you.”

“Well, fuck. She’s going to kill me.” _Serves you right_, a small part of his brain screams. “It was nice meeting you, Yann. Don’t let Basile touch my Marvel collection, and you can keep my t-shirts.”

“_Sweet_.” Yann exclaims, totally unbothered by the prospect of his best friend dying at the hands of a fierce second year.

“You’re so rude.”

“You deserve it. You’ve been chasing her for months and when you finally get her, you blow her off the day after? That’s messed up, man.”

“But I didn’t mean to!” Lucas is quick to defend himself. He doesn’t know why, but he feels the strong need to let Yann know that he doesn’t plan to fuck her and be done with her – it just.

He thinks he’s not supposed to feel as little as he does whenever his hands touch Chloe’s skin. At least he doesn’t think so, from what he’s seen in the movies. Isn’t love supposed to feel all consuming?

“It just- I don’t.” He babbles. “I just got busy, and then I forgot. But I didn’t mean to.”

“What’s you guys’ deal, anyway? I never understood you two.”

The question makes Lucas freeze.

What’s their deal?

He saw Chloe sitting alone at a party at the beginning of the course, and she was so pretty, Lucas’ drunk mind told him that she was the type of girl guys fell for at first sight. So he approached her. And then at school, whenever they waves at each other, his friends would cheer him on, and Lucas felt like he was doing exactly what he was meant to do.

In a blink of an eye, a year had passed, and he was in someone’s closet pressed against the door, kissing her, and he could hear whooping coming from outside, so he smiled, and kissed her again.

And that had been it.

He squirms under Yann’s stare, thumb sliding over the metal ring around the can over and over again as he looks at his blurry knees underwater.

“She’s nice.” Because she is. She’s so sweet, it hurts Lucas to know he’s possibly hurt her. “Cute. I like her, I guess.”

He feels Yann’s eyes studying his profile, but he refuses to look back.

“You know…” Yann starts. “You know you don’t have to hang out with her if you aren’t feeling it, you know? I know we’ve been teasing you about it all year, but,”

Yann sighs again, and it makes Lucas curl in on himself. He hates that he makes his friends treat him like they have to walk on eggshells around him when it comes to certain topics.

“You should be with someone who makes you happy; choose what makes you happy, and it’s okay if she isn’t that.” Lucas hates the tone in Yann’s voice, as If he’s got figured out something Lucas doesn’t know about. “You know that, right?”

He does. But he knows has to call her. He owes it to her, at least that small thing. He has to fix whatever pain he’s caused her this past month of radio silence – he has to, for her. It’s the least he can do.

“No, no.” Lucas shakes his head, stubbornly, ignoring Yann’s sad sigh. Yann doesn’t understand – he _has to_ do this.” I know that. It’s okay. I’ll call her. I want to.”

"You know-" 

Lucas doesn't get to hear what Yann wanted to say because he gets interrupted by a loud voice coming out of the window, startling them.

"Lunch will be ready in a minute! Yann, get your ass in here to help set the table!" Lucas and Yann look at each other with wide eyes before bursting into laugher. And then, a beat of silence later the voice adds "Is Lucas staying with us?" 

Yann looks at Lucas. 

"Are you?" 

"Can't," Lucas shakes his head sadly. "Which is a shame. I'm gonna miss your mom's lasagne while you guys are away. But I don't want my mom to eat all by herself." 

Yann visibly deflates at that.

"I take it your dad is away again?" 

"Yep," Lucas answers, popping the ‘p’ out. "Business trip. As always."

The monotony in his voice turns Yann’s eyes sad. Lucas is aware of how many times a week he has to say those exact same words; it used to fill him to embarrassment, but it leaves him all kinds of empty whenever he has to explain now.

He ignores Yann’s pitiful stare.

"Shame, man.” Yann tries to amend himself, elbowing Lucas in the ribs softly, because he knows Lucas hates it when people treat him like the charity case of the month. “That means these really are our last minutes together, then? I was hoping we'd get more time together. But alas, such a cruel world, the one we live in." 

"Oh my god."

"All I ask is for you to behave, little Lucas. I don't want to hear you got into any trouble." He keeps teasing, cackling like a madman, acting like he's said the most hilarious thing of the century. 

As if. 

"Shut the fuck up, you idiot." Lucas fires back, puffing his cheeks, appreciating his friend’s attempt at keeping the conversation light. "Who are you calling little, you literally had to stand on a pile of books to kiss that girl in sixth grade."

Lucas' distraught tone only makes Yann laugh harder, who doubles over, clutching at his stomach with tears in his eyes. Lucas hides his own smile with a huff, finding it impossible not to laugh along to his best friend's ridiculous antics. 

“That’s how it’s gonna be, then? Okay,” Lucas nods, inching closer to Yann. Yann is too late to react, who looks at Lucas with absolute terror in his eyes before disappearing out of Lucas’ line of vision.

Yann’s body makes a loud splashing sound when it collides against the surface, showering Lucas’ front. His shocked face before going underwater is worth getting wet again, Lucas thinks, laughing to himself.

“You bitch!” Yann yells with an affronted expression in his face, sputtering water out of his mouth.

“Yeah, that’s right! You messed with the wrong Lallemant here! Now you get wet!”

“Yeah?! Now that you mention it, it looks like you’re sweating a little in there,” Yann swims closer, gripping Lucas’ legs. “Let me help you with that.”

Lucas yelps when Yann pulls at his knees, pushing him over the edge of the pool – and that’s what he gets for sitting so close to the edge.

Lucas pouts at Yann when his head emerges back, hair clinging to his forehead, and he doesn’t need Yann to say anything to say he looks like a stray dog.

“You look like a wet dog.” Yann says anyway, because he’s a bitch.

“Jeez, thanks.” Lucas answers him, swimming closer to him. “Now I have to get dried up again, you fucker.”

Yann looks at him before looking at himself, giving him the best _are you fucking serious face._ Lucas is proud to say he was the one who taught him that particular facial expression – it comes in handy more often than not. Between that and the eye roll, Lucas sometimes feels like him and Yann are one person bottled up in two different bodies.

“I’m serious. It’s going to take forever to get my hair dry again.”

Yann rolls his eyes again.

“Poor you.”

And he sends a big wave Lucas’ way.

It crashes directly into his face, punching a surprised gasp out of him, but he recovers soon, pounding his fists into the water with as much force as he can muster up.

They don’t get out of the pool for another twenty minutes.

* * *

**From: Chloe**

_see you in twenty minutes then?? xx _

Lucas pockets his phone inside his jeans with a satisfied smile.

Yann was right, Chloe had been absolutely _fuming_ when he had sent her a text. She hadn’t even answered the text at first, instead opting for calling him and screaming his ear off for five minutes straight.

He deserved that, he thought, sitting on his unmade bed, looking at the ceiling as he let Chloe chew him out. He owed it to her, after all.

He owed her a lot of things. Which is what he had told her after she’d stopped yelling, the only sound inside his bedroom being Chloe’s heavy breathing through the phone as though she had just run a marathon.

Lucas had apologized profusely for ignoring her for so long (which wasn’t true, he had just forgotten she existed. But even Lucas is not stupid enough to know how bad that sounds), reassured her again and again that no, he hadn’t been with anyone over the summer, hadn’t even met anyone for that matter.

And then he’d blinked, and Chloe was hanging up, and they had plans to meet each other for dinner in an hour.

Lucas doesn’t know how he keeps getting himself in these kinds of situations.

It’s not that he doesn’t like Chloe, he reminds himself, eyes fixated on a small stain on his bedroom wall as he sits on his bed with his feet brushing the floor. She’s a nice girl. She’s funny. She’s sweet, and Lucas genuinely enjoys her company.

It’s just that he’s not sure if he wants to kiss her again.

“What are you doing there, baby?” His mother holds herself up on the threshold, interrupting his thoughts.

“Mama.” Lucas breathes.

This is the first time Lucas sees her out of her bedroom in a week. She looks so tired, her beautiful blond hair is greasy and mussed up, and she looks incredibly thin under the baby pink pyjamas she’s wearing, but she’s the most beautiful woman Lucas has seen in his entire life.

He quickly dries the small, treacherous tear that rolls down his cheek with the back of his hand before looking at her.

“Mama, what are you doing there?”

His mama shrugs helplessly, her tiny body shaking with it, and Lucas is so afraid she’s going to snap in half it makes his heart hurt.

“I wanted to see you.” She says in a small voice, her voice hoarse.

“Come sit down, mama.”

She looks at him before looking over her shoulder, unsure, and it’s enough to sprint Lucas into action. He jumps off the bed, taking her hands in his, before slowly moving them towards the bed. His hands shake when he does so, but he doesn’t think his mother notices, because hers are shaking equally as hard.

His mama clutches his shoulders when she lowers herself to the bed, and Lucas bites back the hiss when her nails dig into his shoulders. He takes a seat next to her when she releases her hold.

They smile softly at each other, if a little sadly on Lucas’ part.

“You look very handsome, baby.” His mother says after a while, looking at Lucas’ white button shirt. “Are you going out tonight?”

Lucas sighs, closing his eyes before giving his mother a small smile.

“Yeah mama, I told you a little while ago, remember?” He caresses her arm. “I told you I was going to see a friend tonight.”

“Oh.” She says softly, shoulders dropping. “I don’t remember that. I’m sorry I can’t remember.”

“That’s okay.” He reassures her, the caresses on her arm never faltering.

“Who are they? Is it a date?”

Lucas smiles to himself a little, hearing the curiosity in her voice.

“I think so.” He nods.

“Yeah?” She says, her mood perking up. “Is she beautiful?”

She bounces on the bed, pushing at his shoulder teasingly. Her green eyes shine with something he hasn’t seen in her for a very long time, and his eyes fill with tears again.

“Not as beautiful as you, mama.”

Her mother laughs, and the melody makes his heart thump wildly against his chest.

“My baby,” She smiles at him, cupping his cheek. Lucas closes his eyes at the contact, breathing through his nose, and he smiles into her palm. “You’ve always been such a flirt.”

Lucas snorts, shaking his head. He lets his head fall on his mother’s shoulder, circling her back with his arm and squeezing her body. He lets himself close his eyes, losing himself in the comforting feeling of his mother’s skin against his cheek.

“But what are you doing here?” His mama whispers into his hair, confused. “Your friend must be waiting for you. You’re going to be late.”

And it’s been so long since he’s had this. His mom in his arms. Them having an actual conversation. His mother’s laugher. Her arms around his body. Lucas will be damned if he doesn’t make the most out of this moment.

“I don’t think she’ll mind, mama.” He whispers back, snuggling closer to her mother. “I don’t think she’ll mind at all.”

**To: Chloe**

_let’s make it 30_

**From: Chloe**

_okay! _

Lucas’ sneakers are laying around somewhere beneath his bed, and his pants are unzipped. His phone lays forgotten somewhere behind him on the bed, and his room is a mess. Still, he clutches his mother closer to him, unbothered by everything else. They both look outside of Lucas’ big window in his bedroom, enjoying the sun setting, turning the sky into a colourful canvas of mixed pinks, blues and oranges.

They stay like that for a long time.

* * *

“I am not leaving my house ever again.”

Lucas rolls his eyes, smiling a little to himself, as he shuffles his hands further into the pockets of his jacket.

“No, seriously, guys.” Basile whines again when he’s ignored. “Guys-”

“_What_, Bas?”

“You would never sacrifice me to a bear, right?” Arthur barks out a laugh, shaking his head. “Guys, I’m being serious. You wouldn’t, would you?”

Lucas snorts at Basile’s expression; all wide eyed, and Lucas is pretty sure his friend is not usually this white, not even at night. He’s looking between Arthur and Lucas with a wild expression on his face, as though he’s genuinely worried his friends are going to snap and bury him alive.

Which, to be honest, if he keeps it up, Lucas might be tempted to.

“No, Basile, we would not sacrifice you to a bear.” Lucas joins the conversation in a monotone tone. And then, with a wicked smile “But that’s because there are no bears around here. A wolf, however…”

Basile’s eyes snap open impossibly wide.

“Now, Lulu, that’s not very nice.” Arthur teases back. “Or practical. If you want to sacrifice someone, you gotta commit to it. Throwing him off a cliff sounds a lot better.”

Basile looks horrified for a moment, and Lucas has to cover his mouth with his hand to stifle his laugher, shoulders shaking. Arthur looks at him over Basile’s head, eyes twinkling behind his glasses, and he winks at him.

Basile narrows his eyes.

“You are the worst friends ever.” He grumbles, going in for a punch to their arms. Lucas has time to duck away, but Arthur yelps when Basile’s fist collides with his upper arm. “See if I ever invite you to watch a movie again.”

“The fuck do you mean _invite us to watch a movie_?” Arthur exclaims indignantly, voice high-pitched. “You literally just sent a text to the group chat _begging_ us to come with you tonight.”

“Same thing.”

Lucas tunes out his friends’ voices after that, leaving them to their bickering, tucking his hands back inside his jacket again. He walks next to them on the sidewalk, kicking the rocks he finds on the way, head down, forefingers playing with the silky fabric on the inside of his pockets.

Although it’s a Friday night, the streets are almost desert. There’s a couple chatting a few steps ahead of them and a girl walking a dog on the other side of the street, but apart from that, the city seems to have quieted down over the hours. It’s a little chilly tonight, and Lucas doesn’t regret having taken his jacket with him before leaving the house.

As he watches Basile rubbing his arms absently and Arthur’s reddened nose from the cold, he wraps his jacket tighter around his middle.

The cool breeze hitting his cheeks is making his skin go numb, but it feels nice, Lucas thinks as another whoosh of wind filters through the bushes and ruffles their hair. He closes his eyes for a second, enjoying the cold air against his eyelids, making his eyelashes flutter, as his friends’ voices in the background comfort him.

“-right, Lucas?”

Lucas blinks.

“Uh?”

Arthur quirks a brow, a weirdly proud smile on his face, before putting Lucas in a headlock. Basile circles their bodies, standing by Lucas’ other side.

“Yeah, rumor has it you went on a date with a certain _someone_.” Arthur says again, wiggling his eyebrows in a ridiculous way. Basile nods enthusiastically to his left. “You slick little bitch. Keeping secrets to ourselves, I see.”

Lucas stumbles over his own feet.

Of course this had to be brought up tonight.

“It’s been three days,” Lucas exhales. “What the fuck?”

“I have my resources.”

“Well, maybe your resources should stop creeping on my life.” He mutters grumpily.

“Yeah, yeah. So?”

Lucas looks at Arthur weirdly, a frown on his face, and Arthur just rolls his eyes.

“So, what?”

“I swear this dude,” Arthur huffs, tightening his hold around Lucas’ neck. Lucas tries to break free, coughing a little when Arthur’s arm presses against his Adam’s apple.

“Bas, can you believe this dude?” Basile shakes his head in one jerky movement, black curls bouncing around his face. Arthur gesticulates with his free hand when Lucas stays silent. “Well, how did it go?!”

He doesn’t know why he’s surprised about the question. He should have seen it coming miles away. Should have prepared for it, come up with a generic answer – because right now? Lucas has no idea of what to say.

It went fine, Lucas supposes.

Chloe had been waiting for him on a bench near his house, looking pretty and radiant under the streetlamp, red lipstick illuminated by the yellow light, blue dress shining under the moonlight, and she had looked at him like she was deciding between decking him and kissing the fuck out of him. Lucas hadn’t known what option made him feel more uncomfortable.

Then she had smiled, teasing him about the redness in his eyes, asking if he had arrived late because he was mourning his best friend’s absence, hip checking him as they walked down the empty street, and she had never looked more beautiful – and Lucas, well. Lucas hadn’t felt a thing inside his chest.

And on the way to the pizza establishment they had gone to, he hadn’t felt anything past the chill in his hands either, not even when Chloe had dragged her fingers down the back of his wrist; or while they were eating, and Chloe had smeared tomato sauce all over her lips and chin, and Lucas hadn’t thought twice before going in to clean it off with his thumb, barely brushing her bottom lip in the process, hearing Chloe’s sharp intake of breath. But he had felt nothing but a strange sense of endearment, like watching Basile trying to keep himself upright on top of the skateboard, or taking care of Yann after a particularly nasty hangover.

And when Lucas had checked, the clock had hit midnight, and Chloe had lead them to a park, swaying their hands together as she filled him in all the things about her he had missed during the last month. The sight had left him sweating, just watching the years old swings rocking forward and backwards, the rusty slides crackling under the weight of the wind, the seesaw cracked in the middle, laying sadly on the ground.

Chloe had pressed him against the metal bar of the swing, fitting her leg between his, and Lucas had rested his head against the cold bar, sighing when Chloe started leaving a trail of kisses down his neck, eyes flying over Chloe’s head to settle on the lonely-looking castle standing directly in front of them.

The bright blue walls and red roof had been replaced by a washed-out grey after all the years, not one inch going without black ink names and ugly drawings made by permanent markers, bumps and small holes scattered around the big entrance to the place Lucas had spent most of his childhood in. Now rotting in silence, but inexplicably beautiful in a way only things filled with so many memories can be.

Lucas had placed his hands on Chloe’s shoulders, pushing her away, her mouth away from his skin. He had shuddered when the wind had hit against the kiss Chloe had left there, before whispering between them,

_“You know, I used to come here with an old friend all of the time when we were kids.”_

_“Really? With Yann?”_

_“No, not Yann. It was a long time ago, we’re not friends anymore. But we used to have so much fun together.”_

It had been so long since Lucas had muttered one word about his childhood, more precisely, Eliott’s presence in it, that the memories felt like a hazy state of mind now, a foggy mental image, and the words in his tongue didn’t weight as much and Lucas had expected, his heart didn’t crack when he relived some of the stories with a small smile on his face.

Chloe had looked at him after he was done, a little bit sadly, a little bit fondly, before opening her mouth to speak.

_“So you’re really not friends anymore? Not even those distant ones that wish each other a happy birthday and send new years’ texts?”_

_“Not really, no.”_

_“What changed?”_

And Lucas was used to questions like “what happened” or “how did you take it?” Those questions he had answers to, because everything had been as simple as Eliott not showing up to one of their playdates one day, followed by not answering his cellphone for a summer straight, and next thing he remembers was his mother sitting him in the dining table one afternoon, carefully explaining to him that the Demaury’s had moved to the other side of the city.

And he hadn’t really seen Eliott around after that – he hadn’t been looking for him, either.

But what changed? He didn’t have an answer to that. What changed? One day he had gone to bed with his arms full of red flowers and shaky letters spelling his name, and the next day he had woken up to ink smudges on his pillow and an Eliott-shaped hole in his routine. That had been it.

After Lucas had spent far too long silent, Chloe had gotten tired, burying her hands in his hair and tugging his head forward before crashing their lips together. Lucas had kissed her back on instinct, hands falling limp by his sides, moving his lips systematically as the question hammered the inside of the skull, begging to be let out.

_What changed?_

When Lucas got home, he fell face-first on the bed, the question running in circles inside his head, waking up every nerve in his system and opening every splinter on his body. Biting on the side of his pillow, he had shoved the earbuds in his ears, opening his spotify playlist and hitting play before turning the volume all the way up in an attempt to drown his thoughts out. It hadn’t worked.

Arthur pinches his shoulder, bringing Lucas back to the present.

“Um, fine. We hung out for a little, yeah.” He nods a little to himself. “It was nice.”

Because it had been. It just- Lucas isn’t sure “nice” is enough to date someone.

“Nice? That’s all you have to say, dude?” Basile exclaims incredulously. “You go out with one of the prettiest girls in school, and you say nice? Guys like you don’t know how to appreciate a lady.”

Lucas frowns

“Guys like me?”

“Yeah, you know.” Arthur gestures vaguely. Lucas arches an eyebrow, because, no, he doesn’t know. “God, Lucas. You know. Hot guys.”

Lucas barks out an unexpected laugh, looking incredulously between Arthur and Basile before noting the serious looks on his friends’ faces, his laugher ceasing until everything is quiet again.

“The fuck, guys?” Lucas says, can’t keep the laugher out of his voice. “Are you hitting on me now, Arthur?”

Arthur snorts, hitting the back of Lucas’ head before releasing his hold around Lucas’ shoulders. Lucas grins.

Finally he has his personal space back. Good.

“It’s true, asshole.” Arthur says again, elbowing Lucas in the ribs, hard. Lucas oofs. “Objectively speaking, and as much as it pains me to say this, because you’re an idiot, you’re hot.”

“True.” Basile pipes in.

“Feeling all the love right now, guys.”

Lucas sniffles to himself, drying the non-existent tears from his eyes with the sleeve of his jacket, grinning behind his hands. Arthur pushes at his shoulder, making Lucas stumble and crush against Basile’s side, who lets out and undignified squawk as he wobbles dangerously for a moment, pushing Lucas back and engaging in a stupid dynamic of let’s see who launches Lucas harder without killing him for five minutes too long, if you ask Lucas’ bruised sides.

“Hey,” Basile suddenly says, slowing his pace. Lucas trips over air, not having Basile to stop his fall, and he glares at Basile, who is looking ahead. “Isn’t that Eliott?”

Lucas follows his line of vision, mouth shut, gaze falling on the shadowed figure propped up against a streetlamp. The hair falls over his eyes as he watches something on his phone, his free hand gripping the pole lightly, one earbud falling down his shoulder and inside the small upper pocket of the jacket. Undoubtedly Eliott.

He looks so fucking cool it’s unfair.

“Who?” Arthur asks.

_Same_, the millennial part of Lucas’ brain uselessly supplies. He snorts internally.

“Dude, _Eliott_!” Basile explains feverishly, as though the prospect of not knowing who Eliott Demaury is personally offends him “Demaury. He’s friends with the guys who keep leaving all those weird ass graffiti’s all over the city? He goes to our school, dude. He’s had to retake his last year twice now. Rings a bell?”

“It does not.” Arthur admits before whistling lowly. “Damn though, sounds like a total piece of work.”

“That’s because he is.” Lucas finds himself muttering, more to himself than to his friends, eyes stuck to Eliott’s profile. The admission echoes louder than Lucas thought, because Basile frowns at him.

“You know him?”

Does he?

He used to. From the inside out, he could read his old best friend like an open book, all spread out for him, and just for him. In his eyes, in the small flicker of his head, in the jerky movement of his fingers. Everything seemed like a child’s game when it came to deciphering each other. But then again, he hadn’t seen the fallout coming.

So what changed?

“A little,” Lucas ends up settling for, because it’s the easiest answer.

“How little are we talking? Can you introduce us?”

Basile’s overeager tone causes Lucas to rolls his eyes, turning his head to Arthur, who shakes his head in amusement. The neon traffic lights glare at them from the other side of the street, tinting their faces with a pale red hue in the dark of the night, and although there’s no traffic at this time, they wait patiently on the sidewalk until the light turns green.

“Well?” Basile insists when they cross the street.

“I don’t think so, sorry.” Lucas shrugs, slowing down his pace when they get to a shortcut. Lucas’ shortcut home. “And this is where we say goodbye. Talk to you guys later.”

Lucas salutes them, high-fives and back pats flying around, and he starts walking away, moving backwards, laughing at Basile’s affronted face when a loud howl breaks through the sky.

“Shit, did you hear that?”

“Fuck Bas, the wolves are coming to eat you sooner than expected!”

“Oh fuck off, you guys.”

The three of them laugh loudly, and Lucas stops at the end of the street, tilting his head up.

“Hey, take care of him. Don’t let the wolves eat him”

“Yeah, yeah” Arthur concedes. “Get home safe, talk to you later.”

_“And charge your phone! Don’t forget!”_

Lucas nods at Basile’s last remark, waves at them one more time before turning around the corner, Basile and Arthur’s bickering fading away behind him as he eyes Eliott warily. He is standing two blocks away from him, seemingly unbothered by the group of loud friends that had just invaded the neighborhood for a fleeting moment.

An uncomfortable tingle rises up from Lucas’ neck down his tailbone when he realizes there is no possible circumstance where he crosses this street without passing by Eliott, and he braces himself for the awkward encounter the clearer Eliott’s face gets.

He hunches his shoulders up to his ears, tucking his chin on the collar of his jacket, and he unlocks his phone in one last attempt to make himself as invisible as possible, mindlessly scrolling through Instagram, willing himself not to look up from the screen as he passes Eliott. The faster the better.

Maybe Eliott won’t even see him, if he’s lucky.

Today is not Lucas’ lucky day, though.

“Hey.” Eliott looks up from his own phone, settling his body upright.

Lucas flashes him a fast smile over his shoulder, nodding at Eliott in acknowledgment. “Hello.” He answers politely, one of those passing greetings you throw when you’re in a rush, busying yourself with your phone afterwards to look like you have places to be and avoid the awkward eye-contact that happens after.

And because today is really not his lucky day, Eliott decides to push himself off the streetlight, falling into step with Lucas, starting up a small conversation.

“Are those your friends? They seem nice.” He asks. The thing is that he sounds curious too, almost interested, and Lucas ignores the thumping of his heart in his throat.

Lucas hums noncommittally, pocketing his phone inside his jacket, because no matter how bad he wants to run in the opposite direction and get away from what points out to be the most awkward walk home of his life, he’s not rude.

“Hmm.”

Lucas can feel Eliott’s stare on his profile, grey eyes narrowed and pursed lips studying him, but he doesn’t give him the satisfaction to look back. Instead, he looks up from his shoes, glancing from the black road to the trees, the long avenue that doesn’t seem to end, the tall urban buildings caging them in the further away from the main road they walk.

After a beat of silence, a small smile breaks out on Eliott’s face, and he hip checks Lucas playfully.

“Oh, I see how it is. Am I not enough for the almighty Lucas Lallemant to talk to me?”

Lucas’ head snaps to look at Eliott, and he shoots him a bewildered look.

“Literally no one calls me that.”

“I don’t see why not,” Eliott shrugs, easy smile on his face, but his eyes are full of mirth. Lucas’ heart flips at the realization that he can still read Eliott to some extent. “I mean, if the shoe fits, right?”

“I-” Lucas’ brain goes blank, still caught up in the brightness inside Eliott’s eyes. “Whatever. What are you even doing here?”

Eliott gives him an incredible look.

“I’m taking you home, of course.”

And-

What?

“Take me home?” Lucas repeats in a high-pitched voice. “You realize how fucking creepy that sounds, right? How did you even know I was going out tonight? Are you stalking me now?”

Confusion breaks across Lucas’ face when Eliott’ smile widens, the expression in his face childish and joyful, and Lucas chastises himself for finding it somewhat cute – which is not the point of the situation. Bad Lucas.

“I could be,” Eliott teases him, tip of his tongue winking at Lucas as it peeks out from the corner of his mouth. “But no, I wasn’t actually following you. I was just around the block with some friends when I heard you and your friends talking, and I remember this is the path you used to take home, right?”

Lucas nods, mute, smiling to the ground, once again disappointed by his own reaction to Eliott’s words. It’s just – Eliott remembering his way to Lucas’ house, it does more things to Lucas’ head than he’d care to admit.

“I’m going that way too, I thought it’d be nice to share the walk.”

“Oh,” Lucas exhales softly, loss for words. He looks at Eliott’s profile, then at his own feet, gripping the phone inside his pocket tightly. “Okay.”

“That’s all I’m getting?”

And Lucas halts to a stop then, frowning at Eliott, because he’s not high, or drunk, and he’s aware of the hairs in the back of his neck standing up whenever Eliott walks too closely, and he’s seen Eliott more in the span of a week than he’s done in years, so can you really blame him for being on edge?

It’s not like he has anything against Eliott – not really. Their story ran its course years ago, albeit a little unsatisfyingly, and he’ll admit the wounds from his past life still sting, reminders of a younger Eliott weighting his heart down, but this Eliott? He’s nothing Lucas’ memories stand for, except maybe his child-like smile and bright eyes, but he’s changed. So has Lucas. And holding a grudge against who they are now sounds like a complete waste of energy.

Still, though, Lucas can’t ignore the strange sense of admiration he feels towards Eliott, how he’s willing to put himself in the line to get the older boy’s acceptance; it’s always been that way, still is, now, although Lucas can’t really explain it. And it never fails to make him feel like a naïve idiot, overly excited, always eager to chase some sort of recognition from someone who barely knows him anymore.

It’s just that he doesn’t _know_ how to act around Eliott.

“Well, what else do you want me to say?”

Eliott clicks his tongue, shaking his head slowly, making Lucas’ cheeks redden with something akin to embarrassment. He grips his phone tighter.

“I mean,” Eliott trails off. “Thank you would be a great start.”

“What? For forcing yourself on my path and insisting on walking me home although I didn’t ask for it once?” He snaps back, raising an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Thank you for that, I guess.”

He thinks he’s fucked up, put too much force in his words, when Eliott doesn’t say anything, and he swallows, rubbing his fingers together inside his pockets in an attempt to break free of his own body, so awkward under all the layers, like every movement he makes is getting closely analyzed by Eliott’s glowing eyes.

Of course, Lucas Lallemant, too grumpy for his own good, sarcastic little shit, has made everything ten times more awkward, he tells himself, closing his eyes for the blow that he knows is coming when the sound of Eliott’s abrupt laugher breaks him out of his thoughts.

“_Oh my god_, you’re so fucking feisty.” Eliott laughs, slapping his thigh, and Lucas doesn’t think it’s that funny, but he can’t help the small smile breaking across his face seeing Eliott’s lit up face.

He schools his expression into a mock frown, masking the small sigh of relief he lets out with a cough, narrowing his eyes at Eliott.

“Me? Feisty? I’m the _master_ of not being feisty. I haven’t been feisty once in my entire life.”

Eliott gives him a pointed look, making the corners of Lucas’ mouth tug upwards, but Lucas only pouts harder, committed to the role.

“Oh yeah?”

“Totally.”

“How about that summer I accidentally drank your chocolate milk and you brought two raspberry muffins – my favorite flavor, mind you, and you absolutely knew that, by the way – over to my house and ate them both yourself every afternoon for two weeks straight?”

Lucas’ faces closes off, and he can feel the smile slowly slipping out of his face at the mention of that one memory. He tries not to get consumed by the bitter feeling that walks alongside them whenever Eliott talks about anything related to their past, but it’s a hard task when Eliott sounds so nonchalant and unaffected by the Lucas-shaped hole in his life, matching Lucas’ own Eliott-shaped hole that hides under his bed during the bad nights. 

“Yeah.”

Eliott seems to sense the change of the atmosphere after that, and he shuts up, walking next to Lucas in silence, matching their steps, careful not to invade Lucas’ space. Lucas has a love-hate relationship with this moment, left between helplessly missing Eliott’s soft voice and wanting to get home as soon as possible, go the fuck to sleep, and get a break from his own mind.

He silently mourns the Lucas from a minute ago, drags his feet against the pavement, slowing his pace to prevent right now from ending but at the same time willing his legs to go faster so he can get away from here – from Eliott, the quiet street, his own skin, everything.

Eliott respects his silence, although Lucas wishes he didn’t, because since the other night he can’t shake the feeling that this might be the last real conversation he will have with him, and he won’t know until it’s happened. The knowledge leaves him restless, suddenly not ready at all to let go of the boy who stands for his whole childhood, but he doesn’t know how to ask for it.

He doesn’t need to know either way, he decides when he feels Eliott’s fingers circling his wrist and tugging, causing Lucas to let out a yelp as he trips over his own feet, trying to keep up with Eliott’s long legs.

And then –

And then Eliott is grabbing his wrist, pulling him forward, running down the streets, the sound of their shoes against the road filling the street, and Lucas can’t do anything except follow him, because there are infinite universes with infinite options, but a fleeting thought runs through his head, telling him that there is no universe where Eliott does this and Lucas doesn’t follow.

“Where the fuck are you going?!” Lucas screams over the sound of their steps.

Eliott doesn’t answer, only tightens the grip around Lucas’ wrist, as if Lucas had any intention of running the other way, as if it was a possibility, and he doesn’t slow down his pace until they’re standing in front of a park. Lucas feels his own heartbeat in his cheeks at the sight.

The park.

Eliott drops his arm, and it falls limply on the side of his body. He stays frozen, watching as Eliott walks over to one of the swings, sits himself on the left one, and looks at Lucas expectantly.

“Join me?” He asks with a soft smile, and he looks so earnest that Lucas is not responsible for the way his legs move to their own accord at that until he’s sitting on the empty seat next to Eliott’s.

Eliott’s stare turns fonder when Lucas look at him, if that’s even possible, and Lucas doesn’t know what to do with it, so he returns the smile, shyly, gripping the metal chains to keep his hands from shaking.

“Hey,” Eliott says after a moment, bringing Lucas’ attention back to him. “Bet I can swing higher than you.”

Lucas only arches an eyebrow, still smiling, and Eliott beams, already pushing himself up with his legs, his ass never leaving the blue swing, shooting Lucas a challenging look before letting his legs give out under him, the sudden motion pushing him forward.

“Are you serious right now?!” Lucas laughs, watching Eliott’s face appear and disappear from his line of vision with every swing.

“Lucas, you wound me!” Eliott exclaims when he’s at his highest, face turned to Lucas. “When have I ever not been serious? C’mon, join me up here, you’re too short as it is on a good day!”

Lucas can’t see Eliott’s features clearly when he’s up there, this park doesn’t have the best lightning system at night, which is why he doesn’t have many memories of this place at night, because his mother never felt comfortable with him going out after the sun had settled, but he can’t say he can complain much right now, because whenever Eliott goes up, his blurry figure gets momentarily surrounded by twinkling lights.

Lucas suddenly aches to be up there in the stars with Eliott, go up at the same time, never lose sight of his smile as their bodies get darker and the stars get brighter.

Here, in the dark, only Eliott’s encouraging yells around them and the stars above their heads, he allows himself to admit that he’s always loved looking at Eliott’s smile. And in this moment, it’s hard to remember that he and Eliott? They’re not actually friends.

Lucas will take what he can get.

“You’re insufferable.” He huffs with a small smile, pushing himself upwards, his smile widening when he hears Eliott’s whooping screams fill the park, swaying his body forward and backward to the beat of Eliott’s laughter.

“Yet here you are,” Eliott smiles cheekily at him when they pass each other mid-air.

“Yeah, just in case the cops finally come get you.”

Eliott looks over his shoulder, sticking his tongue out, making Lucas laugh harder. The swing tumbles sideways, and Lucas oofs, gripping the chain harder as he tries to stabilize the swaying.

“You would defend me against them? That’s so sweet, Lucas.”

“Hell no, I just want to be there to witness the day Demaury finally gets his ass kicked.” Lucas teases back.

Eliott throws his head back with laugher, and Lucas watches in passing as his whole body shakes with it. It’s incredibly endearing as much as it is contagious, making it impossible for Lucas not to let out a laugh too.

“Wow, you’re so nice.”

“I know, right?” Lucas nods enthusiastically, hair bobbing up and down, making Eliott rolls his eyes at him. “All my friends think so, too.”

The conversation dies down after that, but Lucas can’t be bothered to feel disappointed, his heart soaring as high as the swing lets him, a permanent smile etched in his face as he flies up and down in a way too old swing, Eliott’s presence sending him closer to the stars. Lucas lets his legs go limp after a while, enjoying the gentle rocking motions that moves his body until he’s not getting lifted anymore, his feet dragging against the sand; and he watches Eliott do the same.

“Hey,” Lucas breaks the silence when Eliott’s feet make contact with the sand, turning to look at him. “Why are we here?”

He sees Eliott breath through his nose before returning his gaze.

“Like, existentially or…?”

Lucas rolls his eyes, causing Eliott to flash him a big grin.

“Smartass. I meant-” He hesitates for a moment, pondering over his own words, not sure whether he’s ready to hear the answer.

It just that- tonight. Right now. It felt so much like it did when they were kids, and Lucas isn’t someone who gets stuck in the past, but the thing is that he’s been beating himself up over Chloe’s words, and he’s suddenly so unsure about everything. So unsure about what everything meant, and what everything means now.

What is Eliott doing?

What changed?

“Why did you bring me here? What are we doing?”

The air turns tense, and Lucas almost regrets having said anything now, because Eliott isn’t looking at him anymore, he’s just staring at the torn-down castle standing proudly in front of them. Lucas would give everything to know what is going on inside Eliott’s head right now.

He watches as Eliott releases his grip on the chains, hands falling to his thighs, his posture making Lucas’ heart jump wildly inside his chest. His face turns red, because he knows that in a second, Eliott is going to stand up and walk back from where they came from.

Someone is going to cry tonight. Probably Lucas.

He is greatly surprised when Eliott does none of that, watching carefully as Eliott chooses to sway himself on his legs for a moment before his eyes return to Lucas’ face.

Lucas holds his breath.

“It’s too nice out to be home yet, don’t you think?” Eliott says in a low voice, turning to look at their surrounding before his gaze falls back on Lucas. “The moon. The dark. This, right now,” He hesitates. “You. It feel special, somehow.”

“Me?” Lucas asks stupidly, because it’s the only thing he can come up with.

Eliott ignores his question, eyes locked with Lucas, and they look almost black in the dark, but they’re not one bit scary as he stares down at Lucas.

One beat later, he opens his mouth.

“Why did you follow?”

Lucas supposes he could go with something witty, like _‘well, you did grab my hand, didn’t you?’, _or just not answer altogether. Somehow, he has a hunch that Eliott would never push him to do, or say anything he doesn’t want to.

But he thinks he knows what he wants to say. 

“The night. The stars. The quiet.” Lucas answers in a hoarse voice. _What changed? _He goes for it. “…You.”

And Lucas thinks he understands Eliott’s answer better now than he did a second ago.

Eliott ends up walking him home, long after their conversation, and Lucas’ legs burn by the time they get to his front door, and his ears still ring with loud laugher, but as Eliott stops him in the last step to his house, grabbing him by the arm, whispering _‘Lucas? It’s always too nice out to be home yet whenever I’m with you’, _Lucas feels like something has changed between them.

He doesn’t know what yet. But something.

And as his face hits the pillow, he’s suddenly reminded of the fact that Eliott lives on the other side of the city, but he can’t find it in himself to be mad, choosing to bury his smile on his mattress, falling asleep to flashes of pearl blue water and bright starry nights.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *awkwardly barrels in through the door* hELLO i am a MESS
> 
> so good news and bad news: i am back on my bullshit with a new chapter! sadly (for you guys, not for me), i am a lot healthier and happier than when i started this fic, so sorry if lucas doesn't sound as miserable and mopey as he used to.  
this is a baby chapter, less than 4k, but i think it's a nice one to get back on my game <3 special merci to my darling daughter helen for assuring me that i still got writing game and for proofreading the first part <3
> 
> I hope you guys will love it as much as i loved writing it! please let me know what you thought in the comments, i appreciate it a lot. happy reading!

It’s been raining for three days straight.

The thick, black clouds took over the city after a month of suffocating warmth, leaving the streets in a colorless light that matches Lucas’ mood. Lucas sits on the edge of a concrete wall, feet dangling, as water droplets stain his clothes darker.

He sees the lightning strike as the sky roars, and the burst of brightness lights up the deserted beach. Lucas takes a drag from the cigarette between his fingers, exhaling the smoke from his mouth slowly as he watches the raindrops hitting the ocean with purpose. It’s fucking cold, and his ass is almost frozen from how long he’s been sitting up here, but he doesn’t move.

It’s the calmest he’s been in days.

There’s something about the rain, and how it plasters his hair to his forehead, or how the water hits his cheeks until they’re wet – and he could be crying, for all a stranger knows. He could cry, and the rain would wash the tears away without a trace. He’s always found it easy to pretend in the rain. Maybe it’s the smell of the wet pavement, or how things seem a bit sadder and a bit lonelier when the clouds cover the sun, and then Lucas doesn’t feel so alone in that feeling anymore. 

He lets out another puff of thick smoke, as grey as the cloud above his head, watching with tired eyes as it dissipates into nothing. Lucas wishes he could relate. It’s been a tiring week; Yann has been gone for the best part of it, and Arthur and Basile, they're his friends too, but they don't know how to have a conversation without cracking a joke. Not that Lucas has ever complained, so his discomfort is probably on him. His dad hasn’t been home in two weeks. And his mama-

Lucas thinks he might drown. And isn’t it ironic, how he always comes to this same place, almost expectant to see the high water physically engulf his body, so that maybe then his mind will be at peace with the correlation between his thoughts and body.

Thunder breaks Lucas’ perfectly crafted virtual haven, making him jump, and he feels one of his earphones fall right out of his ear. The wind suddenly picks up, almost blowing Lucas’ hood off his head. It burns down the blunt between his fingers, small specks of ash flying towards the ocean until Lucas is holding nothing but rolling paper.

He groans internally, letting the joint fall to the ground before swinging his legs sideways and jumping off the wall. The earphone on his shoulder bounces as he does, and he adjusts the hoodie over his head before shoving his hands in his pockets, shoulders squared up to fend off the cold as he walks down the empty street. It’s wet, as expected, darker in some patches than others, and Lucas indulges himself in the sound of his sneakers squeaking with every step he takes.

One step, and another, and another, falling into a comfortable pace with the timing of the bass coming from his earphones. One step, and another, and another; the pattern tastes sweet in Lucas mouth, and another, and-

“Shit, man!” He exclaims as he stumbles over something on the floor, managing to catch himself on the stairway railing before falling.

Lucas hears the voice before he sees him, “Lucas.”

He looks down in time to find another person already staring up at him, almost gasping in surprise when his eyes land on Eliott’s face.

“Demaury,” He breathes out. “Why the hell are you sitting here?”

Eliott merely shrugs from his sitting position on the ground, raising an eyebrow. _And you?_

Fair enough.

“You know, it’s rude to trip people in public.” Lucas points out, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Just in public?” Eliott snorts. “And I didn’t trip you, you just stepped on my leg.”

“Which was in the way.”

“Was it? Or were you the one out of place?”

Lucas squints his eyes at him before deciding to drop it. Eliott only gives him another one of his lazy smiles, and Lucas lets out a long suffered sigh, chastising his heart for the weak tug it gives at the sight of Eliott grinning up at him.

“Join me?” Eliott adds after a beat, offering up his joint and another warm smile.

And Lucas does, mostly because standing over Eliott like this is making Lucas notice a bit too much about him – the way he can count every one of Eliott’s eyelashes from up here, and how a few strands of hair stick out from Eliott’s hood the wrong way, and how the raindrops fall down the bridge of his nose. It feels weird. 

He sits with his legs crossed in front of Eliott, the paws of his hoodie pushed down over his hands, grimacing when the wet pavement soaks up his jeans. Eliott stares at him with a cocked head.

“Are you ever going to call me by my name?” Eliott asks, still looking at him through his eyelashes as he passes the joint to Lucas.

Lucas takes it between his fingers before taking a small hit. He’s no stoner like Yann (despite what his friend has tried to tell him over the years, he knows no man who keeps a stash of weed by his bed and goes on hour long rants against capitalism at four in the morning is anything but), so one and a quarter of joint is enough for him today. It’s not even noon.

“I don’t know,” Lucas grins, letting the smoke out through his teeth. “Am I?”

Eliott huffs.

“What’s it to you, anyway?” He says after Eliott doesn’t respond. He nudges Eliott’s foot with his own when the older boy only huffs again with his eyes fixed on the ground. “It’s just a name.”

“So why won’t you say it, then?”

“Why’d you fuck me over when we were kids?” Lucas shoots back. There’s no hint of malice in his words, but his voice is firm and cold in a way that leaves no room for argument. Eliott’s eyes widen and his mouth falls open. He looks like a deer in headlights.

He lets Eliott suffer for a minute, watching with amusement as the older boy tries to articulate his thoughts before taking pity on him. “Exactly. There are things that are better off left in the dark, Demaury. Let’s keep it that way.”

After a moment, Eliott nods.

“Fair.”

* * *

“You know what’s funny?” Lucas asks an eternity later, when the second joint has made its way to his blood and the streetlights light up one by one. The sun is almost setting now, and the storm has finally decided to give the city a break.

Eliott shrugs at him from his crunched down position against the staircase with a dopey smile. He looks ridiculous with his face half hidden on the hood, back off the staircase in a way that cannot be humanly comfortable, sitting on the edge of the first stair so close to it just one nudge from Lucas and he’d be falling down it like a bouncy ball.

But Lucas won’t tip him over. Maybe. He hasn’t decided yet.

He moves to nudge Eliott’s knee, surprised to see their legs perfectly aligned between each other. _When did that happen?_ “Do you?”

“The clouds?” Eliott indulges him.

“The clouds? No, why would a cloud- What?”

“Because they look so spongy and fluffy.” Eliott says dreamily, staring up at the sky with wonder in his eyes. “Do you think they’d taste sweet if we could bite into them?”

Lucas looks at him like he’s a fucking idiot.

“Clouds are big masses of water. Biting into a cloud would be like eating a water flavored ice-cream that tastes like sweat.”

Eliott has the nerve to actually look disappointed. “Then I don’t. What’s funny?”

Oh, right.

“Oh, right.” Lucas repeats. “It’s funny that we keep bumping into each other when we haven’t spoken in over five years. And now you’re everywhere. It’s funny.”

Lucas expects Eliott to laugh, but Eliott just flashes him a small smile, far too sober for someone who’s supposedly high.

“Funny.” He murmurs.

“You don’t think so?” Lucas asks, brows furrowing as he straightens up his position. Eliott’s dejected look doesn’t sit well with Lucas, although he doesn’t know why. He pouts, crawling over to where Eliott is sitting to pat clumsily at his chest. “I think it’s very funny.”

Eliott turns, surprised to find Lucas so close to him. _You and me both, buddy,_ Lucas’ mind supplies. “I wouldn’t call it funny.” He says softly, giving Lucas a hesitant smile.

Lucas smiles back, biting his lip.

“What would you call it, then?”

“Hmm,” Eliott ponders for a second, rubbing his jaw with his knuckles. The look of absolute concentration on his face makes Lucas let out a nervous giggle, who widens his eyes with outrage and disgust at the sound. “A fucking miracle, maybe. Good timing. A chance to fix something. To _change_ something.”

And that word. It makes something inside tingle that Lucas can’t quite put a finger on right now. It makes his cheeks burn.

“And what would you want to change?”

“Well,” Eliott drags on, teasingly, daunting in a way only he knows how to. “If I told you, then it wouldn’t happen, right?”

“I believe that only applies to shooting stars, idiot.”

“I see.”

“You see?”

“That you’re still the biggest nerd I’ve ever known.”

Lucas pushes him hard enough to throw him down the stairs.

* * *

The sun has fully set already, and Lucas can’t tell apart the ocean from the sand. From where he’s standing, he thinks he could feel the water up to his knees if he were to move four steps down.

He is coming down from the high, but not quite. His head is floaty, almost to the point of dizziness, and there’s a certain lightness in his limbs that makes him think he’s about to fall asleep. It’s nice. He likes this part.

“Don’t you ever get tired of being here?”

Lucas rolls his head in the direction of Eliott’s voice. “Like, existentially or…?”

He muffles his laughter on the collar of his hood when Eliott huffs, both of them challenging each other with bright eyes.

“You’re so annoying.” Eliott complains, his voice sounding low and raspy from the weed. It makes the hairs on Lucas’ neck stand. “How can be a mass of 4 feet and 50 pounds be so annoying? I don’t understand.”

Lucas snickers.

“I do.” He says at last, taking pity on the boy groaning against his shoulder. Eliott gives him a confused look that makes him snort. “Get tired of being here. What are we supposed to do in this shithole, anyway?”

The way Eliott shrugs - so close to Lucas, shoulders pressing against each other - makes Lucas feel it all over his body.

“I don’t know.” Eliott sighs. And then, after a beat, he sits up excitedly. He faces Lucas with stars in his eyes and a half crescent moon inside his mouth. “Want to find out?”

Lucas opens his mouth, heart pounding in his mouth, and for a fleeting moment he sees the answer painted all over Eliott’s face, on the dark sky, floating in the ocean. For a moment he smiles, a childish smile that he thinks he hasn’t worn since he was a little kid, something sweet rushing inside of him. And then-

Then he opens his mouth, just as he feels a vibration against his leg. He pulls his phone out of his pocket clumsily.

His face falls, “Shit, it’s-”

And then Eliott’s expression closes off, his eyes lose its brightness and his smile dims out, as if he already knows what Lucas is about to say. And Lucas hates himself a little.

“I, I have to go.” Eliott only hums as he stares as Lucas’ shoes. A dark shade falls over his face and it makes it harder for Lucas to see the face he’s pulling; it’s for the best, he thinks to himself. It has to be.

Still, he can’t stop the sour taste in his mouth as he stands up on wobbly legs, aware of the way his left side drags against Eliott. Eliott tilts his head up slightly, a few strands of hair falling out from his hood, small smile sitting on his face. Lucas bites his lip.

“But, this was fun?” He adds shyly, sinking his hands inside the pockets of his jeans. “See you around?”

Eliott gives him a tight-lipped smile.

“Sure.” He nods. “See you around, Lucas.”

Lucas starts walking as the storm picks up again. He keeps walking, and walking, and walking. And he doesn’t turn back. Because if he did, he doesn’t think he would’ve stopped himself from walking back.

* * *

Another thud on the wall makes Lucas jump. His tears have long dried on the pillowcase, too used to this every other night. Nonetheless, he hugs the duvet tighter to his chest, hands trembling under his chin as another wave of noises breaks the silence.

He sucks in a deep breath before reaching across his bed for his phone. The sudden light hurts his eyes.

He trembles against the mattress when he hears an aborted yell coming from the room next to him. He knows better than this, though, knows it’s just his mother having nightmares again, but as he hears the distinct sound of his mama sobbing in her sleep he can’t stop the tears that gather in his eyes. He blinks them away, lips trembling as he reminds himself to breathe through his nose.

He puts his headphones in, tuning the world out with a shitty playlist he gets recommended on Spotify. He pulls up Instagram, smiling softly when a candid photo of Yann resting against a big palm tree greets him. He likes it and comments on it, typing out a long string of meaningless emojis. He makes a mental reminder to call him tomorrow morning. 

His fingers play across the screen, idly, distracting himself, until suddenly there’s Eliott’s profile mocking him. And suddenly there’s a red heart under Eliott’s last post.

“Fuck!” He gasps. “Oh no. No, no, no, no, no…”

_Lucas Lallemant_. You _useless_ fucker.

He quickly dislikes the photo, but deep down he knows the harm is already done. So done, not even ten seconds later he sees a new notification popping up.

Lucas goes through the six stages of grief before tapping on it.

_@srodulv has followed you._

**@srodulv**

_Hey Lucas :)_

He grips his phone so hard it almost slips from between his hands.

**@lucallemant**

_hello _

**@srodulv**

_What are you doing up so late, sleeping beauty?_

The nickname makes him huff as much as it makes his breath pick up, and he rolls his eyes before responding with shaky hands.

**@lucallemant**

_can’t sleep_

His mama’s cries quieten as he waits for another response, and he breathes out a sigh of relief. Maybe that was it for the night. He prays it was. He doesn’t think he can go another sleepless night without losing his mind.

**@srodulv**

_Wanna do something?_

“What the fuck,” he murmurs to himself. “It’s two in the morning?”

Eliott Demaury is going to be the death of him. He’s going to die at seventeen from all the emotional whiplash.

**@lucallemant**

_ummm… like what?_

He holds his breath for a response. And waits. And waits. And when ten minutes have passed, the small “seen” glaring back at him, he presses his lips together in disappointment, locking his phone before turning on his side with the pillow over his head.

It’s whatever. It’s _Eliott_. Eliott, who pulls you in and then pulls away, at any time of the day and when he considers it appropriate. Lucas doesn’t know why he’s disappointed. He promised himself he wouldn’t let it come to this. He knows better. He has to know better.

Otherwise life catches up to him. And it’s never pretty. Lucas understood years ago you can either be three steps ahead of everyone or you can live by someone else’s rules.

It takes him some time to realize that the tapping sounds outside of his room isn’t a fidget of his imagination, and when it finally clicks inside his mind that that’s _his_ window that’s being bombarded with stones, he jumps off his bed. The cool night air hits his face when he opens his window, and he can’t stop the hysteric laugh that bubbles up inside of his chest at the sight of Eliott grinning up at him from the ground.

“Prince Lucas!” Eliott yells. “Prince Lucas! A spare rope that I can climb up with, Prince Lucas?! A ladder?”

_Treacherous heart._

Lucas muffles his laughter with his hands, gesturing to Eliott to keep his voice down. His heart beats loudly inside his chest, beautifully and alive, watching with big amused eyes as Eliott climbs up the wall until he’s kneeling in Lucas’ window.

“Fucking hell, Eliott.” He giggles. “You’re mad.”

Eliott gestures proudly to himself before putting his hands on his hips, mirroring the infamous Peter Pan posture – and right there, standing on his window ledge with a childish grin and his eyes sparkling under the night stars, Lucas isn’t sure Eliott is not a lost boy sent out to save him.

“And you called me Eliott.” Eliott beams.

He supposes he did. He thinks he’s allowed to break his own rules tonight, and for a boy who ran all the way to his house in the middle of the night. It should sound a lot more concerning than it does, but somehow Lucas can’t feel anything past the comfortable tingle inside his bones. The night makes him stupid, he decides.

Lucas rolls his eyes halfheartedly, still staring in disbelief at the boy in front of him.

“Yes. It is your name, after all.” He says stupidly. When Eliott shoots him an equally stupid grin, he doesn’t feel so bad about it anymore.

Eliott reaches his hand forward. Lucas holds it instinctively.

“Tell me what you want, Prince Lucas.” Eliott says quietly. He gives their joined hands a gentle squeeze, sending a shock through Lucas’ entire body.

Lucas looks at their hands with parted lips.

“I want-”

Another scream pierces through the room, breaking the soothing quietness. Lucas stumbles forward, looking at Eliott with wide, scared eyes. Eliott’s face doesn’t budge though, eyes still locked on Lucas as he shoots him a gentle smile, squeezing their hands softly again.

Lucas swallows past the lump in his throat. “I want you to drive me crazy.”

Eliott beams then, pulling at Lucas’ hand. Lucas goes.

“I know just the thing.” He says, looking into Lucas’ eyes. “Let’s make this summer count for something.”

And Lucas had been so, so scared. Of the past. Of the past and the future merging together. Of the present. Of everything. Of Eliott not being his Eliott – of not finding any trace of the Eliott that he thought had been long gone, the Eliott he used to spend his summer evenings and fall mornings and winter nights with.

But as he stares at the man smiling up at him, at his pointed chin, his eyes, the same shade of grey he used to have dreams about when he was seven, his jaw, less round and more squared, the crock of his nose, the childish grin; he sees Eliott. Grown up. With some stubble under his jaw. But his eyes still laugh the same, and his lips purse when he’s thinking the way it did when he used to do his math homework.

He had been so scared, but he realizes that he doesn’t have to be anymore. He’s Eliott, and he’s so grown up now, but he’s still Eliott. And an exhilarating rush of pride fills his chest at the boy in front of him. He’s not the same, but in some ways, he always will.

They leave the window open as they go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i've missed you guys
> 
> [come say hi!](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/eluincorrectquotes)

**Author's Note:**

> please let me know what you think! 
> 
> [come say hi!](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/eluincorrectquotes)


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